


All Systems Go

by AndreaLyn



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James T. Kirk's been this guy for the majority of his life. That's all changing now. He just never expected it to happen as a result of a failure to get it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Systems Go

After everything that’s happened and everything they’ve gone through, Jim Kirk still doesn’t know the nooks and crannies of McCoy’s hiding places. He’s been rifling through a windowless room on the  _Enterprise_  to try and find his  _keys_  to his motorcycle that he’d picked up after graduation from a guy who’d made enough upgrades that it went twice as fast as anything was supposed to go. After everything they had been through, after  _everything_ , Bones had the gall to grab the keys and give him that pointed ‘you listen to me, you goddamn kid, before I stab you in the neck with something very sharp and very painful’ look before taking his motorcycle away and saying this and that about the healing process and how Kirk needed to take it easy after his latest run-in with a couple of brawlers on the last planet they’d beamed down to.   
  
So Kirk’s done the only logical thing.   
  
When everyone is too busy to really question the veracity of a page, he summons Bones to the medical bay to keep him occupied and now he’s tearing apart pillows and sheets and drawers and really surprising magazines that he didn’t expect from the man. Instead of finding keys, what he finds is a folder of papers. That stops him for a while and his mind isn’t on the lascivious images of the pages of that pornography.   
  
He’s caught up in this twister of destruction and exploration and then it all stops on the head of a pin because he’s found the divorce papers.   
  
It’s always been that looming elephant on the bridge. From the very first moment they’d met, Kirk knew that there was an ex-wife to contend with. Well, an ex-wife and a really long laundry-list of some particularly strange phobias. Not that he minded. In fact, it kind of made Bones a little bit endearing (or so he’d told the man one night when drunk on too much vodka, or ‘wodka’ as Chekov  _insisted_  before he had proceeded to embarrass himself and Sulu by explaining with delight the lesser-known-talents of Russian contortionists and his study of them). Kirk’s never even seen a picture of the woman but she exists so absolutely larger-than-life that Kirk wonders if any woman’s ever going to burrow her way into Bones’ life ever again.  
  
And if She’s not enough of a warning, there’s  _Captain_  Kirk (he’s never going to get tired of that, never) himself. Sure, it’s been ages since, but for two solid months they were connected at the hip.   
  
Literally, if you dropped by Jim’s dorm between the hours of eleven and one. Eleven and three on Fridays.   
  
That…well, it’s over now, as Kirk would tell any girl at any bar on any planet. It’s over because Bones went off to do his residency and twenty-four hour shifts didn’t exactly give anyone the stamina to come back to a dorm and go three rounds with a man as eager and overly anxious to achieve as Kirk was.  
  
He doesn’t find his keys that day, but he tucks the papers away in his back pocket to use as leverage at some later date and time. Every crumple and every wrinkle on the pristine legal pages gives him some abject satisfaction. There’s electronic copies hovering on every planet in every system, sure, but Kirk’s managed to put a dent on one of the deeper wounds in McCoy’s past.   
  
He’s barely even out the door when he sees McCoy charging down the hall towards him and Kirk knows that’s his cue to leave.   
  
He claps Bones on the shoulder when he passes him in the corridors of the Enterprise with a grin and a hurried, “How’s the medical emergency, Bones!” and doesn’t even find it in him to be hurt when McCoy looks at him as if he wants to tear him apart piece by piece.   
  
With the divorce papers threatening to burn some kind of metaphorical hole in his pockets, his keys are the furthest thing from his mind. He needs a distraction. He needs to get his mind  _off_  the weight of the worlds resting on his shoulders since the attack on Vulcan. He’s beginning to think more seriously about taking a planet-side sojourn to really get to know some of the locals while everyone else is compiling scientific data. From everything Kirk’s read about the place, the girls there are  _really_  flexible and it’s been so long since Kirk’s last been with a woman that he actually has to count the days in triple-digits.   
  
And that’s just  _unacceptable_.   
  
*  
  
“God _dammit_!”   
  
Scotty’s hovering inches behind him and he’s managed to earn himself an entourage on his stormy walk down the halls with one destination in mind and one destination alone. He’s headed for that windowless room and by the time he’s halfway there, he’s got Scotty, Sulu, and Chekov in tow.   
  
“Vould you like me to find you a relaxing drink!”  
  
“Sir, did something go awry on the planet?”  
  
“Captain?” Scotty sounds far too interested for his own good. “Was she not to your liking, then? Did she have some alien disease?”  
  
Kirk whirls and stops on a dime and he’s not pleased with any of them. Not any of his crew, not any of this five-year-mission, not the flexible girls on the planet and  _especially_  not Bones, because he can’t get the man and his divorce out of his head and… _goddammit_ , he’s supposed to be James T. Kirk, this sort of thing doesn’t happen to him.  
  
He turns around again without saying a single word and keeps stalking and storming down the halls until he’s at Bones’ door. He turns and with a single emphatic gesture, manages to shoo away the entourage he’s picked up since beaming aboard the ship. His jacket’s still in hand and he’s got a distinctive mark on his neck that only could have come from one activity and he’s standing there pounding on Bones’ door and giving him more courtesy than normally he’d afford the man.  
  
“Open up!” Kirk orders. “Bones, if you’re in there, open up!”  
  
Kirk is  _sure_  that the delay between that order and the doors opening is on purpose. Suddenly, he’s gone from being followed to being alone and in Bones’ room, watching him pick up the remnants of a mess Kirk made only hours back. “Jim, if you came back to wreak more havoc, how about you take a seat until I get things back in order,” McCoy suggests wryly, clearly not pleased with Kirk’s little act earlier.  
  
It’s not about that. It’s so very much not about that and Kirk has stopped running out of ideas or notions or people to blame. He can’t just wave it off as stress (he’s always been fine under stress!) or some fixation on Uhura (because like hell he’s ever going to manage to get a hand on her without Spock doing that whatcha-whosit-whatsit thing that got him all good and unconscious the  _last_  time) and it’s not like he’s worried about perception because she isn’t even on his crew.  
  
“I blame you entirely!” Kirk shouts as loud as he can, trying to empty himself of his rage at something he’s sure he can’t control. “You did something to me, didn’t you? You and your…your ‘favors’, you did something to me, didn’t you?”  
  
“Goddammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a mind-reader,” Bones snaps at him. “Come out and say what the hell you mean to.”  
  
“You!” Kirk announces, pointing his hand at the man and all the while, he’s getting closer. He’s been drifting forward like an object hurtling through space with no ability to stop. Physics is full of objects in motion and now Kirk’s just joining their forces. He only stops at the full weight of Bones’ glare, which is enough to make any man’s blood go cold.  
  
It only makes Kirk falter  _slightly_.   
  
Not to mention, he’s got something a lot more important to talk about. “I was on that planet and things were going great with that alien girl--” He even ignores the way Bones mutters ‘of course there was a girl’ under his breath “—and then suddenly we’re in bed and she’s touching me in all the right places and kissing me like she’s a professional and…”  
  
“Is there a point to all of this or am I going to have to pay you at the end of this description for services rendered?” Bones asks wryly, arms folded over his chest. “And while you’re here, where’d you put my divorce papers?”  
  
“Bones!” Kirk shouts to get his attention, every inch of him distraught and caught up in his very important personal trauma. “I couldn’t get it up!”  
  
“…what?”  
  
“I couldn’t get it up,” he hisses at him, furious and irritated and he’s jumping in his skin. “I have always in my life been able to…I’m  _James T. Kirk_  and I…there are legends about me at Starfleet already and…what did you do to me!” he cries out with boundless frustration. He’s already only a foot away from Bones. Reaching out and grabbing him by the front of his uniform with both hands is no large order and he’s doing that instantly, shaking him to try and coax out some kind of rational explanation for why Kirk’s body has turned against him. “I don’t have it figured out yet, but either you did something to me or your medicine did or…or…”  
  
“Jim,” Bones cuts him off.  
  
“What?”  
  
And then suddenly there’s a hand on his crotch and that would be Bones’ hand because he remembers that hand (and all its calluses and even that wedding band he refuses to take off). Suddenly that hand is squeezing lightly and… _oh_.   
  
“Huh,” is all Kirk manages. “You fixed me.”  
  
Nothing is making sense in his head. It’s this rush that’s clouded his mind ever since the Kobiyashi Maru and hasn’t stopped. It’s just this whirl of events and faces and destruction and emotions he hasn’t been able to understand. He’d thought becoming Captain would make it all go away, but things are only speeding up instead of slowing down, as if someone’s been behind him the whole time and leaning their weight on him to try and get him to fall.  
  
The only fall he’s currently worried about is the distance between him standing up and him lying recumbently on McCoy’s bed.  
  
He lets go of Bones long enough to think about this. He hasn’t had sex since he became Captain because he’s been too busy. The very first time he attempts with some stranger and nothing’s happening. He tries to shout the walls down around Bones and suddenly he’s ready to go again.   
  
“It was good to see you, Jim,” Bones is saying conversationally and gesturing to the door. “The next time you come hollering at me, how about you bring me back those papers and…”  
  
Whatever he might have said next is cut off by Kirk’s forward lunge, silencing McCoy’s words with a furiously desperate kiss. It’s accompanied by the fervent clasp of his hands cupping Bones’ cheeks as tightly as he can in an effort to not let him get away. His movement seals the space between their bodies and there can’t be an inch between them for all of Kirk’s attempts to press his body flush against McCoy’s, fingers dragging down the stubble of his cheeks and fumbling with the buttons on his uniform while his tongue does all the talking and yet Kirk doesn’t manage to utter a single word.  
  
There’s plenty of  _sounds_ , though.   
  
“Jim.”   
  
He refuses to reply, kissing him harder to shut him up.  
  
“Jim.”  
  
Kirk doesn’t stop, just tries to get his shirt off. It’s all  _Jimjimjimjim_  in an unending litany, but McCoy’s hands have found an interesting place to be, at least (secure on Kirk’s ass) and that manages to haul them impossibly closer together. It’s blurry when Kirk looks at McCoy, easing away infinitesimally from the kiss, only enough to allow McCoy to say whatever he’s trying to. “Kid…”  
  
“Don’t call me kid right now,” Kirk interrupts him and decides that giving him a chance to argue with him is overrated. Maybe he needs to ease back into this with people he knows and trusts or maybe the whole game has changed while Kirk had his back turned. Now that he tries to see the chess board for what it is, he’s left feeling like a captured pawn to McCoy’s knight in an entirely new setting.  
  
Just as he’s caught up in wondering what else has changed, they fall.   
  
They fall the distance to the bed with McCoy on the bottom and Kirk on top. Kirk feels his stomach dropping away from him, as if he’s not just falling in this one way, as if the floor is opening up beneath him and he’s about to plummet. If he can skydive from space, why should he be so afraid to dive into this head-first?  
  
He’s still hard as before and is starting to grow desperate. Every movement becomes a focused effort to find release and he rocks with  _determination_  against McCoy’s hip, furiously trying to find friction. He’s swearing away under his breath and his whole universe has diminished into the ever-expanding and unstoppable heat of desire that’s consumed him now that he can feel this never-abating need. There are small droplets of sweat rolling down his neck and McCoy then tries to kill him by languorously licking up Kirk’s warm skin, biting lightly at his earlobe.  
  
“Oh,  _fuck_ ,” Kirk manages uselessly and he gives up on the idea of pulling any kind of metaphorical chute.  
  
He just  _falls_  and it doesn’t take much longer for McCoy to shove one hand down Kirk’s pants. Soon after, it seems as if it’s over in seconds. They’ve gone from nothing to everything with no in-between and now Kirk’s panting and straddling McCoy. McCoy looks incredible this way – half-naked and mussed with a flush to his cheeks and his lips wet – and Kirk lets out a needy sound before sliding down McCoy’s body and unbuttoning his trousers as fast as he can.  
  
His whole life has been as fast as he can. Why stop now?  
  
It’s like returning to an old friend. Kirk presses his tongue to his upper lip when he gets McCoy loose of his briefs and takes him in. It’s not deep. It’s shallow, but focused. It’s a furious attack with tongue and lips and hums of pleasure and moans of incredulous disbelief that he’s gone this long without it. Some section of Kirk’s brain blames residency for taking this away from him, when he should really be placing the blame on his own shoulders – his and McCoy’s broad, very-well-toned,  _gorgeous_  shoulders.  
  
By the time McCoy is coming in his mouth, Kirk’s got the feeling he’s got things figured out a little.   
  
Not a  _lot_ , but he’s got time to pull it all together.  
  
He lifts himself and collapses atop McCoy, watching the embarrassed flush in his cheeks and wondering how long it’s going to take him to start taking apart the evening and talking about how they could either forget it now or he could find some compound in the medical bay that’d help them forget later.   
  
Kirk doesn’t feel like doing that.   
  
He’s been given a cure tonight. He’s figured out that it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with him just because he doesn’t feel like spending his life trying to get the approval of strangers. It  _definitely_  doesn’t mean he’s condemned to a life of chastity. It doesn’t mean he’s going back to being a sex-maniac either, but he feels like maybe he’s starting to understand how he can manage the in-between. It just means that maybe there are new doors opening for Kirk and he’s becoming this adult, this responsible man who people trust with their lives. He wants to prove himself, but he wants to prove himself to the people who are going to see him again and again.   
  
If nothing else, Kirk’s going to make sure that Bones gets to see him in this light many more times, if he gets his way – and he always does. He’s going to prove that he’s a changed man if it takes him all five years of the mission.  
  
“You’re a damned housecat like this, Jim,” Bones complains and tries to shift to one side in order to roll Kirk off of him.  
  
“C’mon, Bones,” Kirk complains. “You performed a miracle tonight.”  
  
“Getting you hard?” Bones echoes. “I’m pretty sure that’s as common as waking up and  _breathing_ , Jim.”  
  
Kirk will tell him what he really did for him later. Hell, they’ve got the whole of space to travel before he has to tell Bones what really happened that night. That moment exactly, Kirk leans over to grab his jeans and digs out the divorce papers, offering them to Bones with a mildly sheepish look. “I was going to hold them hostage until you gave me my keys back.”  
  
“Goddamn kid...”  
  
And those are fighting words as far as Kirk’s concerned. This launches them securely into round two and James T. Kirk would be delighted to fill out a log describing how absolutely, completely, and utterly without problems he was for the remainder of the night – and some of the next morning.


End file.
